The 12-Inch Pianist and the Million Bucks

A guy walks into a bar carrying a briefcase and an old brass lamp.

He sits down and sets both on the bar.

The bartender pours him a drink and asks, “What’s in the briefcase?”

The man opens it to reveal a tiny man sitting at a piano, playing beautifully.

“Where on earth did you get that?” the bartender asks.

The man points to the lamp. “A genie. He granted me a wish.”

“No way,” says the bartender. “Can I try?”

“Be my guest.”

The bartender rubs the lamp, and out pops a genie.

“What is your wish?” asks the genie.

The bartender thinks for a moment and says, “I want a million bucks!”

The genie claps his hands.

Instantly, the bar is filled with a million ducks.

Ducks are everywhere. On the tables, behind the bar, hanging from the light fixtures.

The bartender stares in disbelief.

“What’s wrong with this genie?” he shouts. “He must be hard of hearing!”

The man takes a sip of his drink and says, “You think? Do you really believe I wished for a 12-inch pianist?”

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With apologies to the adage-quoting visitors who keep interrupting my morphine haze, I’m

With apologies to the adage-quoting visitors who keep interrupting my morphine haze, I’m not sure exactly how getting brained by a concrete block and tumbling from atop fifteen feet of scaffolding is supposed to “make me stronger.”

Posted: June 2, 2026 (4 months ago)
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Topics: bar, gender, magical wishes
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